Page 1 of Pack Captive

1

Ayla

Death stalkedtowards us on silent feet.

I knelt behind a granite boulder, crouched below the thing’s line of sight, and watched the shadow wolf come out of the woods, creeping down a hill.

It picked its way between the trees, sniffing the air—hunting us in return.

Its shadows were like nothing any wolf had ever seen in nature.

They were as dark as the blackness between stars, seeming to suck all light away from the edges of reality. As I watched, smoke spilled from the wolf’s flanks, coloring the air and casting a pall over the day.

Fenn shifted uncomfortably next to me.

“There’s going to be more,” he whispered, his eyes trained on the shadow wolf.

I already knew that. Most of our pack had been destroyed by these creatures, savaged without mercy.

The shadow wolves moved in packs, and they seemed to know when we would be weakest. It was always during the dark moon, when my power waned.

All of my Warriors were gone. Every single one of them had already fallen in battle to the shadow wolves. I’d pushed so much power into their sacred runes, it had burned their skin, leaving them scarred after they fell.

They’d agreed to it, had even pushed me to do it, but their last stand had been in vain.

My nails were still torn from digging the last of the graves.

And for what?I tried to push the bitter thought away, but it always gnawed at the edges of my thoughts.For what?

Fenn was a Guardian—a wolf without runes, unable to receive the moon’s power—but he was an old man now. Hardly any help compared to the younger Warriors.

By all rights he should’ve escaped with the rest of the pack—with the rest of our elders and pups.

But with the Warriors dead, I had no other choice.

Without the lunar runes, he wouldn’t last long against these creatures. He was never meant to be a fighter, but a protector, and now we were down to the dregs.

The shadow wolf crept closer. It was yards away, but I could still smell its rotten stench on the wind, making my nose wrinkle.

The shadow wolves of Pack Fenris were unusual in more ways than one; they were not only darker than the night, giving off the scent of rotting meat, but they never shifted into human form.

Whatever it was Fenris did to them, it turned them into somethingother.

I knew that we could take this one wolf together, at least. Every muscle in my body tightened with anticipation, my nails lengthening and growing into claws.

“Don't,” Fenn whispered, his voice flat so it wouldn't carry towards the Fenris wolf’s sharp ears. “There'll be more.”

“I know that,” I hissed back, keeping my voice just as low. “But we can’t kill them all. Let’s just take what we can.”

The most we’d ever seen hunting as a pack was four, but that didn't mean they weren't capable of traveling in larger packs.

Not for the first time, I wondered where Fenris acquired the raw material to turn into these abominations. His shadow creatures slaughtered all packs in their path—or maybe that was just rumor, too.

Maybethiswas what he did to them all.

I peeked over the edge of the boulder and sucked in a breath. Two more wolves had emerged from the edges of the forest, following their leader.

The creatures were anathema to nature. They looked like they’d been cut out of reality—the shape of wolves, but not the essence.

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